It's a long way from the Outhouse. When the winters were particularly cold, one would throw a flaming page or two from the mail order catalog into the pit. Not a particularly welcomed smell but one's naked bum has no nose and the warmth seemed to expedite the metabolic download. The only light came from the crescent hole cut in the door. Ever wonder why a crescent? According to the farmers, a round or square shape was more inviting to birds. Nothing worse than to have to urgently dump and at the same time have to deal with a berserk crow. The crescent cut seemed to eliminate all but the occasional errant sparrow. When the pit had reached its capacity, another pit was dug, the Outhouse moved, and the pit filled in. A tree was usually planted on the spot. That's the way humans addressed one of the realities of rural life. *Flash Forward* It is the turn of the millennium. The necessary facilities are indoors. Japan has invented electrically heated toilet seats. Only trouble is the seats sometimes catch on fire. This is not conductive to one's inner sense of well being. The Outhouse is inside and it is called the Bathroom. Yep, ya got yer crapper right next to yer tub. You got the whole room plum full of electrified stuff. There is enough illumination so one can read any hour of the day. There are plug in air fresheners in the necessary rooms all over the world. There are millions of toilet bowl cleaners that one drops in the water hamper. Toilet paper is called, "Bath Tissue." Beats me how it helps one take a bath. Let's look at toilet paper. No one at Georgia-Pacific seems to know who decided on the length and width of each individual paper square. When I asked the Consumer Assistant, she took offense at my line of inquiries. She wanted to know, "where are you going with this line of questioning?" M.D tissue is 4.5 x 4.4 inches. Whose idea was it deviate from a perfect square? Are there esthetic, psychological, economic considerations? What if toilet paper were manufactured in a more "rectilinear" shape. If they shaved two tenths of an inch off of each side, would we miss it? Think of all the trees that would be saved. Such were my thoughts this morning as I scraped nature from my face, applied an artificial scent, straightened my tie, checked my fly, fumbled for my car keys and merged with oncoming traffic. Zen thought for this month: Eat when you are hungry, sleep when you are tired. Andersen   -30-